trying to gauge whether or not this outfit was too loony tunes for public consumption. mental survey says no despite feeling like a yes. not really the outfit per se, moreso the hat. i also went out sans makeup cos i wanted to tan my face, the last stand-up i had before NOLA granted absolutely no change to my skin pigment, waste.
so i had to wear sunglasses indoors like a cuckoo, almost had an emergency butt explosion in dominion, not really a close call just a first warning signal. maybe my anoos is allergic to suntanning.
pms crazy took over and i bought choc. fudge i just had one, v. delicious what the hell i don’t even like sweets. what else did i want to talk about, oh nothing. i’m totally a grease pig monster right now it’s pretty hot. thank god fil is a garbage disposal so i can buy dumb things to eat and let him finish the rest after i have a bite. 3.5 grams of fat per 2 of these, not bad really. not amazing, but not bad. i had one then the butt explosion happened. i was backed up in NOLA, traveling does that to me, the change in diet and then being around someone who isn’t used to hearing how insanely loud and capable you are at fart explosions so you just force it all in, the last nite when i was sick it started happening and then at the airport after security i evacuated my entire being it was lovely.
someone’s happy to have the fat under my tits back.
You are really judgemental; so what if she’s fat and wears velour or the emo kid wears make up and a skirt?
Interesting considering that you constantly parade yourself as in defense of the weak/underdogs/losers…. observation | Edit comment Delete comment | 04.07.08 – 4:23 am | #
“observation” thats funny that you’re defensive of my OBSERVATIONS, it’s a blog persona, stop crying. think of it like do’s and don’ts, i’m trying to help these people. and just as every coward in my comments who says nasty shit to me would never have the cajones to say it to my face, i would never be so rude as to do the same with my OBSERVATIONS to these strangers. if someone is dressed like an idiot i’m going to notice, nothing to do with their being an underdog at all. now if that goth dude was being cornered by some jocks hell fucking yeah i’d step in and throw some crazy in to defend him.
get your points right before you waste more of my time here.
i do not constantly parade myself as some joan of arc for losers, i merely state that i have the balls to speak up for them when no one else EVER does, and sometimes to my detriment but i do it anyway, there’s a difference.
oh and big ps. it’s called BEING FUNNY try it sometime, you’ll get more friends that way. raymi | Edit comment Delete comment | Email | Homepage | 04.07.08 – 8:37 am | #
ahh never gets old, yes i am the dirtbag in the beetle bailey hat and that is a penis sippy cup not a dildo. i am doing kiefer sutherland before kiefer sutherland did kiefer sutherland.
i think there should be a blogger reality television show in the style of the real world except it would be super boring cos none of the bloggers would socially interact they would be too busy flaming each other in their comments
(hot asian chick no less i am cringing cos i hate to fight the asian babes cos something in my head makes me think that they are all in love with me because well, i am in love with ALL of them)
Mike: only 3 have an internet connection – that blows my mind
me: yeah i better be one of them
Mike: seriously – I’d rather go without food and water
me: yeah and write and talk shit about people secretly on my blog until i shrivel up and die
this is my dancing face. if you see that face then you know that i am dancing. or trying on a hat in a mirror.
be hyperly unaware of how fucking amazing and mysterious you are.
i don’t think i will ever be able to have children because they would be stuffed into suitcases and thrown into a fucking river if they begged for a dog and did nothing to care for it.
yeah, i really care what the patrons of seven-eleven think about me, it is very important they view me with the utmost respect and admiration.
no thanks i will stick with the irish trash and he asked if i was irish i said no, british.
i am the one that is talking, obviously. the girl to my left who is blown away by my conversational skills, i went to kindergarden with. also, take note that i am the skinniest, haha bitches.
bloggers choice awards i stopped caring about three seconds after i blogged about it, the description of me is still funny though. why aren’t any of these buzznet embedded vids loading?
i want fil to get fat/jogging pants too so we can pretend to be university kids he said no i said fine be old.
fil thinks he saved the planet cos he ate at the whole foods buffet, way to go dude.
see: CUNT CUNT CUNT CUNT SPOILED FUGLY BITCHY SELFISH DELUSIONAL PROJECTIONARY NASTY ARGUMENTATIVE IGNORANT SELF-SERVING UNAPPRECIATIVE WITCH.
me: when i am on a roll i am like thank you bipolar!
i did not grow up a duvet person, duvet/comforter whatever it is, i think it is more of a dude thing, my arm-spanse is not that of a fucking eagle’s i canNOT deal with holding a corner then the other corner then flopping out the mother fucking blanket like parachute day in kindergarden and then T-bird jumping it on the mattress and smoothing that shit together just so
i think the second laugh he did was cos he was single and lonely as hell and seeing a couple nag, kick and swear at each other is like i am going to go home and murder myself after i eat two boxes of kraft dinner.
back to the cold but not so bad, warmer now than it was when i left, spring is here finally.
hey ladies.
what part of this creation is supposed to be flattering?
i ordered some white wine to try and combat the curse cramps and also to be funny, we caught the episode of king of queens the nite before when doug and carrie’s dad get her drunk cos she’s more fun that way then she gets wise to it and says wow this martini is good i feel instantly less bitchy and easier to be around!
wrapped burger and deadly side order of potato chip fries.
brie, roasted red pepper and spinach, omfg. we shared.
curry chicken wrap also shared.
i give grapefruit moon’s cuisine a thumb’s up and a nod, i bet lots of annex dicks hang there early on weekends so be careful. we got there after 4 (when the other half of the menu opens up) so we lucked out. also check this out.
then we played cooking mama (watch that video), it is so addictive and crazy, you basically cook and this lady barks out cute engrish to motivate you the entire time. quite hilarious. some of the movements required to chop and mince look like you’re rigorously jerking off so when you’re playing against someone you’re both sitting there furiously beating off and laughing hysterically.
shared some jerk okra for a late dinner cos we were too lazy to do anything else, after watching walk hard.
this cat ruled, was just hangin’ outside this cafe when i walked in, still there on my way out, totally unbothered.
spooned all the egg and ham out of it, this close to rock hard.
sigh.
ehm i guess red isn’t your colour?
mildly funny, dudes relax, the front of your shotgun house and stairs aren’t even that appealing to party on, i’ve seen better.
toxic flood water and the date the home was searched, in some neighbourhoods the date is as far as three weeks after the flood. some houses get repainted and the tag is sprayed on again as an homage.
such a terribly pretty place.
abandoned phones look peculiar, this is in chicago waiting for my connecting flight, my pics are out of order sorry doooooods.
an american (old) dude asked me what my paperback said on it, he said doesn’t that mean death? in front of everyone waiting to get off the flight what landed in NOLA and i had to correct him in front of everyone, no, it actually means a swear word, SHIT. death is mort but he already wasn’t listening. i noticed that’s a common theme for americans, they speak to you just to speak at you not for any sort of conversation, just so they can say what they had in their head then carry on. now not for ALL americans i encountered, just, some of them. the stupid touristy ones.
yep, seriously.
pitt was conceived in this bar.
leslie’s late breakfast.
mine. i’m glad they didn’t butter that toast as i would have wolfed it, 1 point me, 0 points that diner.
i was a bit weary in ordering this after my nite of comatose in the hotel bathroom but figured what the hell right?
brought it to go, couldn’t finish it, too much shit floating around in it.
three preppy dudes left this all behind, what a magnificent waste. the bus dude said y’all take pictures of anything and i mulled over it for the duration of being there, i didn’t want him to lump me in with every other retard in the quarter with their cameras. i did say well i just wanted to get their champagne glasses, but he too was already not listening.
one of many places i was too shy (proud) to order anything from.
bourbon street. smells like puke.
upon seeing this mask, cid lost his shit, he got all big and his fur stood up, he looked like a raccoon. we cool now.
hotel 2, the westin. far superior.
right after my barf salad.
looks like the size of a fucking shopping mall.
yeah, cos he’s banging his secretary.
this tour guide snapped at a few people on the tour he goes is there a problem? DO YOU have a problem? cos a couple people were crackin’ jokes i guess and had to-go cups, easy bro, just cos you have the worst acne scarred face that i have ever seen doesn’t mean your tour groupies are talking about it. no one looked like they were enjoying themself at all.
yes, that woman is wearing a velour gypsy dress, white velcro runners and a hippie shirt and was also chain smoking, ungh disgusting. just one of many unfortunately.
bro, i think you veto’d your right at dolin’ out death glares when you woke up that morning and put on a tent for pants. that chick had a cat ears head band on. bonus fat gypsy rainbow in the background.
they holler at you to have a reading or whatever bullshit they’re selling, i managed to hold back a snipey remark, remarkably.
napoleon, wonder if he ever drank here.
this house was used in interview with the vampire, some of it apparently.
remember that salad i was yamming about, fucking hell, or maybe it was then having the greasiest late nite grilled cheese sandwich at this truly awful place off bourbon street and woof, get ready for my full report on obesity. i also had this drink that i forget the name of, a cross between a mojita and a margarita, which i suspect may have been one more spike in the coffin of my nausea. we were fortunate to sit beside a table of 8 ladies nite out hippopotamuses at this restaurant, fortunate because of the retarded drinks they were ordering and their platters of food and then when the bill came how they all in poor tastely nickel and dimed over it, the one who said she was arrested a year ago and her sister bailed her out was the one who bickered the most over it. i really wanted to get a crazy to-go drink in one of those hurricane cups or whatever but every time i walked in to one of those lit-up fluorescent barf coloured stores i got really shy and walked right back out. people here do not understand the concept of my outfit choices and individuality and the urge to stomp on people’s feet from gawking at me was all too strong.
so i’m on the bathroom floor for a long time cos the a/c was cranked in the room and too cold for my head so i had to put the covers over it then got way claustrophobic and nauseous so off to the bathroom, i had someone bring up pepto bismol and it made it worse then barf city happened. ps. you have to tip EVERYONE here such a scam.
yep it’s true, it might have blown over, the sky is pretty funky right now.
i ate the worst room service salad evs and felt like puking the bed immediately after i’m better now.
oh wait the red warning bar got worse, i might get to visit OZ yet.
sorry that twister joke was pretty gay. leslie is off booze for the rest of her life apparently, not me, i’m trying to get cut off the mini bar, canned corona numero deux, and i finished the wine.
